Finwë sat in his favorite plush armchair just near enough to the fire for its heat to warm him, fingering his ancient, carved walking stick. The stick held more memories that he could ever hope to recall, having received it from Manwë, Himself, when Finwë was preparing to head back to Arda to lead the Noldor West for the first time.
The creaking and moaning from the bed drew him from his reverie, and he cast his weary eyes on the two forms entwined beneath the crisp white sheets. Shaking his head, he wondered how it was that his two wives never tired of each other. Rising from his chair, he walked over to the bed and rapped the first rear that presented itself to him sharply with his walking stick.
"Ow!" Indis yelped, her voice a little distorted since her tongue, at the moment, was buried between Míriel's legs. Míriel herself looked up at her husband, irritated. "Why do you think that was necessary?" she asked, squirming a bit from Indis' attentions. "A simple, 'I need a bit of attention, ladies' would have sufficed."
"I need a bit of attention, ladies," Finwë parroted, managing to look quite put out and gesturing broadly toward his Elfhood, which stood a full mast.
"Fine," Míriel answered, crooking her finger at him, "But leave the stick over there."
"You know that wherever I go, the stick goes."
"You are only going three feet away, Finwë. You don't need the stick. Besides, you've been in Valinor for Ages…and there are no plans to send you on any long journeys again."
"The stick comes with me," he answered firmly, gripping the stick and holding it close to his body.
Indis lifted her head from between Míriel's legs, tenting the sheet. "I am sorry…is something wrong?"
"Didn't you hear us? He wants attention, but he also wants the stick," Míriel replied, her hand trying to push Indis' head back down.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you because my head was being squashed between your thighs at the time."
"Ladies…I am waiting - most impatiently," Finwë muttered, using his free hand to stroke himself.
Sighing, his two wives separated, making room for him to crawl onto the bed between them. They looked at each other over their husband's taut belly. "Shall we show him?" Indis asked Míriel.
"I don't know…he wouldn't leave the stick," Míriel answered, teasingly.
"Show me what? Come now…some attention, please…"Finwë reiterated, pointedly indicating his nearly purple erection.
"Show you what we learned from Ulmo…" Míriel replied, her finger tracing lazy circles around her husband's navel. "It's called the 'kissing dolphins."
Finwë raising an eyebrow at his wives, who looked at each other and giggled. "You've been seeing that Vala again? No wonder the rugs have been damp as of late."
"Don't play at being jealous, darling. We know about Amarië, you know."
Finwë's cheeks blushed a bit. "She's just a dalliance…you both know that…"
"Don't worry, sweetness," Indis answered, "But don't tease us about Ulmo, either."
"So…this 'kissing tuna' thing…how does it go?" Finwë asked.
"Kissing dolphins, dear, not tuna."
"I'm still waiting…" Finwë repeated, once again pointing to his throbbing erection.
Indis and Míriel smiled at each other, then simultaneously attacked Finwë's dripping rod with their lips and tongues. Before Finwë's eyes rolled completely up into his head, they rested a moment on the open double doors that led to the balcony. His mind, already brought to the point of no return by his wives dancing tongues, briefly registered that the moon looked beautiful tonight, reflecting the deep blues of the ocean.
The three Elves cuddled together in the large bed, both his wives resting their heads on Finwë's broad chest. His hands massaged the silky skin of their backs, thinking that he was so lucky to have married two such lovely Ellith.
" Finwë, your stick is poking me…it's most uncomfortable," Míriel complained, moving her leg around, trying to find a more suitable position.
"That is not my walking stick, dear…" Finwë laughed softly, smiling wickedly at his squirming wife.
"I know dear…I know," Míriel answered, equally as wickedly, grinning up at her husband. "Indis, should we show him what we learned from Aulë?"
Finwë's eyes opened a bit wider at the Vala's name. " Aulë? You've been to see Aulë as well?"
"Yes…" Indis purred, running her tongue up the middle of her husband's chest. "He taught us a little something called "Forging the Sword."
They didn't leave the room until the next huge, blue moon had risen over Valinor, and when they finally did, it was noted by many that Finwë was leaning more heavily than usual on his walking stick.